It
took us an hour of driving blind in the dark to find the Paia Beach to start
the ride.There aren’t too many street
lights on Maui, so when the sun’s down, it’s dark!Our hosts at the B&B had packed us a
picnic breakfast: yogurt with granola, banana bread, juice and fruit cup.Delicious and perfect.Once we found the beach front, I scarfed down
the breakfast and got my gear rigged to ride.Then it was a short trot down to the waters edge to kick off the ride
properly by dipping my toe into the Pacific Ocean, proving that I’d started at
sea level.Like I said, it was pitch
black and the waves were crashing hard.With no other sound to soften their blows, it was really intimidating to
walk out there in the dark.(side note:
Char and I had to stop and watch the burrowing sand crabs)

I
rolled out of the beach lot at 6:38 am, still dark and difficult to see where I
was going, praying that the cars rushing down the highway into Paia would see
me and not run me over. Hey, West Maui Cycles, how about some lights on your
rental bikes?And, while you’re at it,
how about a cyclocomputer so I know how far I’ve ridden and how fast I’m not
climbing?

The
first few miles were gorgeous as the sun slowly rose and I could enjoy the
tropical paradise around me.There were
old missionary churches, cemeteries, cattle and horse farms along the
road.There was nowhere to look without
a spectacular view.Within the first
hour, I had climbed a 1000 feet and was able to look back down the slopes to the
ocean where the sun had risen enough to reflect off the water on the north
shore.Just shy of Makawao, another
rider caught up to me and introduced himself.Tyson from Santa Cruz and I would spend the next 5 hours fighting our
way to the top of the volcano.

Our goal, still 9,000 feet above us.

We
cruised through Makawao, the cowboy town complete with a general store, and hit
the first steep pitch of the day.It was
barely 200m but rose straight up the hillside.My heart rate spiked and our legs burned, and this was only a preview of
what awaited us farther up.

In
the town of Kula we stopped at the Kula Marketplace, supposedly the last place
to get any water before reaching the National Park.The pull off rested on a 30 foot cliff above
the store, and we pondered how to get down to it without breaking our
necks.Tyson took a small winding
sidewalk that twisted through some potted flowers and dropped straight down the
steep side of the hill.I hesitated at
the entrance, thinking about how badly this was going to end for me, when a
kind gentlemen leaned out his car window and pointed out the main entrance
about 40 feet down the road.Much easier
for me to go down and then back up again without breaking my skull.

Back
on the road, our climbing started to increase in steepness, and we rode into a
beautiful dark pine forest.By now we
were at about 4000 feet and looking forward to reaching the half way up
point.I must point out that we were
also already 3 hours into the ride and weren’t halfway done climbing yet. We had also been watching the tour groups of folks riding bikes down the road, waving and gawking at us as we slowly spun up the volcano. Local tour companies drive paying clients up the volcano, fit them with cold weather gear and full face helmets, then let them coast down the roads. That was starting to sound like a lot more fun than we were having.To the west we could see the mountains on
West Maui peaking through gaps in the eucalyptus trees.Tyson asked about those, and I told him that
the peak, Mt. Pu'u Kukui, is only about 5700
feet.We realized we’d be well above
that in no time.Once we rode out of the
forest and onto the grass lined switchbacks, I noticed that my heart rate was
way above my comfort zone and knew that there was no way I was going to
maintain our pace.I told Tyson to go
on, that I needed to throttle back a little.We parted ways temporarily right at the 5000 ft mark.I made it to the 5500 ft mark before I
stopped to take a picture and stretch my legs out.

Starting at 1000 feet, someone painted these friendly reminders of how far I had to go.

I
never thought I would stop while climbing a hill, but 36 miles is a long ways
to go straight up.Restarting was
difficult, the Specialized Roubaix that I had rented had a different balance
than my personal Cannondale Synapse.When I pushed down and stood up to clip in, the front tire came off the
ground and I almost found myself skidding off the road and down several
thousand feet of volcanic terrain.It
took me a couple tries to figure out how to restart uphill with this new bike,
but eventually I had it figured out and didn’t kill myself trying.

The view from 5500 feet. In the distance, Mt. Pu'u Kukui at 5700 feet. To the right you can barely see down to the north coast near where I had started before sunrise.

As
I continued on, I made a promise to stop roughly every 1000 feet of
climbing.That gave me a goal to work
towards and prevented me from exhausting myself and failing.I held out past the 6500 mark until I hit the
ranger station at 6700 and paid my $5 fee.Most depressing and bitter park ranger ever.He needed a yogi bear in his life.

Lonely rider, Tyson, making his way up the volcano.

When
I reached the park visitors center, at about 7300, Char was there waiting and
she switched my water bottles out and I took off right away.

Warning for the local Nene bird, of which I did see one while climbing but was too tired to get a picture of.

With only 3000 feet to go, I should have been
happy but the climb just continued to get more difficult.The altitude started working into my head,
and several times I wondered if I was going to pass out, throw up or start
giggling to death.It got really weird
around 8000 feet when I looked down the mountain and saw that the clouds had
moved in and were almost chasing me up the volcano.I swung my leg over my back to stand beside
it and almost fell over.My thighs were
quivering, my calves screaming and I was a little dizzy.I forced water down my throat, and stretched
as best I could.

Being chased up the volcano by the cloud layer was disconcerting and I started worrying about my descent.

I
stopped again after passing the 9000 foot marker.There was a pull off for cars that I chose
and stretched out my legs again.The
shaking was less severe and I was thinking a little clearer.Or, perhaps, altitude sickness was setting in
and I couldn’t tell how bad off I was.

At
9700 feet, I pulled into a large parking lot where Tyson was pulling on his
cold weather gear.He’d only made it about
10-15 minutes ahead of me.Sitting on
the sidewalk, we realized the actual summit was another .8 miles uphill, the
steepest pitch on the entire ride, so he took off to make his summit bid and I
got dressed for my attempt.Somewhere
around 8500 feet it had cooled off significantly, but I hadn’t really noticed
until I stopped.Now, I was
freezing.All the cold weather gear I
had crammed into my pockets suddenly seemed like a great idea, even if some of
it was damp from sweat or humidity.

Char took this picture from the summit, of Tyson and I resting and pulling on winter gear.

The
last climb to the summit was by far the worst and best part of the entire ride.It’s only 8/10 of a mile, but is also one of the steepest pitches, over a 14% grade,
and sucks the very last bits of energy and hope right out of your body.However, you know it’s all over and you crest
the hill grinning like an idiot as you pass the 10,000 feet sign.

Depleted but exhilarated that I was finished climbing.

The view awaiting me at the top.

Char
was waiting for me in the parking lot and stared at me like I was an idiot when
I picked up the bike to carry it (while running) the additional 23 feet up the
stairs to the true summit of Haleakala.At the time it made sense to me, and I have no idea where the energy
came from to do it.Four days later we
would drive up the volcano and the same stairs would leave me breathless and
dizzy from walking up.

We even took some glamour shots to prove I had survived and not fallen off the volcano
or been eaten by a lava monster.

I stole
food and water from Char and began my descent.I had looked forward to this part all day long, but now wasn’t so
sure.It was cold.Really cold.The moisture from the clouds combined with the speed of my descent cut
right through my gear and my whole core was frozen.I’m sure that I was borderline hypothermic on
the descent, and at one point was shivering so badly that the bike started
bouncing on the road.The switchbacks
meant that I had to brake hard and bleed off speed constantly, and my hands
started to cramp.I expected to begin
warming up as I passed through the thermal layer at 5000 feet, but no such
luck.

It
wasn’t until I’d made it back to Makawao that I felt warmth creeping back into
my body.Then the descent leveled out
and I had to pedal to keep up with traffic.Of course, that was probably the best thing for my body and I pedaled my
butt off, easily outpacing several cars trying to follow me down.The more I pedaled, the warmer I got and the
more energy I seemed to find.I soared
around open sweeping turns through fields of sugarcane finally stopping to
downgrade my gear with a couple miles to go.It had taken over five and a half hours to climb, but less than an hour
to descend.

Once
back in Paia, I ripped off my shoes and picked up the bike for the walk down to
the shore.People were sunbathing,
surfing and relaxing along the shoreline, and I probably looked like an idiot,
but nothing would stop me from finishing in style.

I burned over 4000 calories during the ride, so I was promised I could relax and eat/drink whatever I wanted at that night's luau.

It wasn't until a few days later that I would come to terms with the enormity of my ride up Haleakala. On our drive to Hana on the far east coast I would gaze up at the volcano in one of the few moments that it wasn't shrouded in a cloud layer. Staring up at the naked rocky ridge at 10,000 feet from sea level, I suddenly questioned my own sanity in attempting to climb it in the first place. I was able to snap a shot of the volcano after sunrise during the marathon that captured some of the majesty for me. But the greatest emotional impact came from driving up the volcano later that week, and staring down at the expanse of the island and realizing just how far above everything we were at the top.

Stay tuned for the second part of the Maui Report, where Char and I go on a 50 mile ride in search of fish tacos.